


Keepsake

by IstTyrr



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Internal Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 11:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IstTyrr/pseuds/IstTyrr
Summary: Serafen can't abide sensing his crewmates are hurting, even more so when that pain comes from love.





	Keepsake

**What binds us to our grief**  
**Binds the sculptor to his clay**  
_Rome - We Who Fell In Love With The Sea_

"Time heals all wounds eh? 'Least _that's_ what they all say. About as helpful as a kick in the crotch, if you ask _me_!"

Serafen leaned with an elbow against the railing, looking up at the Captain's face, studying her features. She acknowledged him with a nod and a smile, but didn't turn to meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes played upon the choppy waves that clashed against the hull, rocking the ship erratically, as it sailed across them. Peeking through an overcast sky, the rays of the midday sun tinted the waters golden but the foam that sprayed their faces was cold.

For a while, he humoured her silence. The Captain's demeanour seemed oddly akin to the weather that loomed above their heads; Fair, but only on the surface, as the turbulence of a storm threatened to rear its ugly head at any moment. Serafen had been at sea long enough to recognise the signs. He knew she was a Watcher - and if talking to the dead and the gods wasn't enough rotten luck, he didn't know what was. The word on certain lips he had honeyed was that she run with another crew before any of this. And they were thick as thieves - quite literally at that, for whatever fortune had built that fabled Keep of theirs, it had come through odd jobs and plunder. And if he _had_ to be fair, that part fit him like a glove.

The part which didn't quite agree with him was how she'd gone and lost it all in one fell swoop, trampled under the feet of that giant they said was Eothas. And that didn't call for neither palm greasing nor mind reading to figure out. Her grief prickled his senses, like splinters pushing under fingernails and just as poisonous. Serafen took a step back mentally, shielding his third eye from hers. Even so, it was too late. That poison was inside him already, long before he ever met her and he could feel its sour taste on his tongue even now.

"_This_ from that lad of yours?" Serafen spat and jutted his chin towards the Captain's hand. By instinct, she closed her fist around the thing and hummed, as if she hadn't heard what he asked.  
"That trinket ye keep fondling, staring out at sea." He pressed louder, sidling closer, in case his voice didn't carry over the clamour.

She tisked and muttered a string in Vailian he didn't quite catch, except the last part "..._nasenale, ac?_"

Serafen stroked his beard and eyed her thoughtfully. Of the Watcher's lover, he had heard precious little and most of it, rumours. Not even Edér, simple lad that he was, had given him any more to go on, other than he was 'like him, _an orlan_' and a good sort...for the most part. That whole _spiritshifting soul-eater_ piss stank worse than the Hole. And that was quite an achievement, even by his standards. Not that Edér could tell apart orlans from common beasts, he gathered - but he bore no grudge against the lad. Still, he had to give it to him, at least for his loyalty, that he didn't go about spilling the Watcher's intimacies. Not that he had asked any more than he needed to know. The obvious aside, of course - that whoever her lover was, he had since split and was nowhere to be seen.  
Except only in name. For his name - _Hiravias_, was traded so freely in words between them, that Serafen half expected the man himself would suddenly burst out of some crate in the hold, where he'd been hiding this whole time.  
He felt for her, truly. But at the same time couldn't help a grim satisfaction every time he heard such tales. They served only to confirm his own resignation, still bittersweet after all these years, that such things never worked out. They were not meant for those coursing the kind of life they did, such as it was.

"Let me give you some advice, cap," he started, when no chatter was forthcoming, "Kith heart be like these deckboards." Serafen crossed his arms on his chest and scuffed his boot against the wood for effect. "Without proper grease, they shrink and wither. Before ye know it, there's holes all over your hull. Best be taking my word on it, don't go too long without. Then again," he winked, scratching his bearded chin with a sharp fingernail, "depends who does the greasing."

The Captain let out a short, surprised laugh then passed a knuckle over her lips as if to silence it. He grinned, proud to have elicited at least that from her, even though it took effort.

"You're an expert at this, aren't you?" she smirked, finally setting eyes on him. "Giving advice you have a hard time following yourself?"  
Her bold, uneven accent filled his ears, just as the full weight of her soul pressed against his psyche as she turned her attention to him. No different than the day they had first met aboard this very ship. When he had reached out with his mind to get a read on her but found his own secret had been equally stolen; The memory that wouldn't leave his thoughts that morning, standing next to Furrante. Of what a sodden, traitorous, son-of-a-whore he was. _Captain._  
She had fought him then - they all do at first. Soon they find out that water crests the highest cliffs and always finds a way through the flimsiest cracks.

"Gather I'm an expert in many things," he boasted. "But don't be meaning to step on your toes, cap. Just thought I'd impart some of me hard earned wisdom. And it don't cost you a _suole_, neither. It's all part and parcel."

She laughed at his wordplay, genuinely this time and for a brief moment it seemed as if the sun had broken through the clouds, bathing the deck in a warm ray. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared again and she cast her eyes to the horizon once more. Serafen chanced a step forward.

"All I be trying to say is, it don't pay none to see you ache as you do. Not all heart's flutters need be chased to the ends of Eora."

That sparked something inside her, he _felt_ it. His own words stung, like white hot iron against unmarked skin.  
"Not _all_ heart's flutters," she bristled, ire creeping into her voice. "But some are worth following into the Beyond. Have you ever felt love like that, Serafen?" Her eyes pierced him, unmoving and sharp as arrowheads. Despite himself, Serafen flinched and she caught it, a fleeting look of panic disarming what anger was welling up inside her, before she looked away. Once more, too late.

"Can't say that I have, cap." He lied quickly, tugging at one of his beard braids and pulling hard. The dull pain on his chin wasn't nearly enough to mask the longing that bloomed in his heart. For in his mind came an image, so profound, that no matter how many times it got dredged up before his eyes, it seemed to have the same impact; A man, younger in memory but still weather-beaten after a lifetime of coasting along unforgiving waters. **Remaro**. And yet no strife had marred his calm and open visage, nor dulled the tune of his patient voice as he offered encouragement. Affirming with a steady palm, his own trembling hand that clutched the quill, scratching letters on a piece of overused parchment. When Remaro smiled, crinkles lined the corners of his eyes, watching as Serafen penned his name, uncertainly, for the first time. _Gellarde, Blue._

He was wrenched away from his daydream, only to find the Captain's gaze was set on him. Sunlight made the green of her eyes stand out, but he remembered the time that green had turned to purple, bruised and soul-blind. He knew that look, she was studying him; it was the same he cast on her whenever he wanted to get a feel for her situation. Serafen stifled whatever tatters of his vision lingered, for fear she would steal into his head just as easily. But then she turned contemplative, struggling as if to decide whether she should speak or bottle it up. 

"It hurts, _aimico, _I won't lie." She exhaled, the confession pushing through more with exasperation than relief. "_Everything_ hurts. Those walls of Caed Nua were built on our backs, paid for with our sweat and our blood. But they weren't what made it _home_. We lost **everyone**." She turned to the horizon and the next words came through her teeth. "Just thinking about their souls being trapped inside that statue, _suffering_ \- I could just tear it limb from limb, god or no. I won't rest, until I've set them free." She paused but her silence held more desperation than rage.  
"Still," she turned back to him, "none of this will bring them back; or make anything as it was before. It's all..._gone_. I have to live with that. And yet, as much as it hurts now, I don't regret it. Given the chance, I'd make the same choices again. Only this time, maybe I could keep them safe."

Serafen canted his head and gave her a look, incredulous.  
"See that's all fine and dandy," he chastised "but it just be showing me, ye haven't learned anything. Keep building them castles in the shallows, don't be surprised none when the sea knocks them down." He sensed his voice rise, with a frustration he hadn't realised needed airing. "Same thing with that lad of yours! Do you even know he be coming back? Mayhap, on his way to you, he tripped and got caught up between another set of legs!"

Her laugh came out sharp and forced and the pain that lanced through his own chest, made him curse their connection.  
"Perhaps." She affirmed quietly, shaking her head. "It doesn't change anything. Those five years together have been a gift to me. I could fit a lifetime in them and still it wouldn't be enough. Half a century of my sordid life has gone past and I hadn't felt that happy before - _truly_ happy. And knowing that burns me, it burns like the sun on my skin." She raised her hand towards a ray of light and a golden stripe painted across her wrist. "I miss him by my side, most of all."  
  
Serafen felt it like a punch in the gut; Not the ache for something that was never there to begin with. But the emptiness left behind by something that had once filled his heart to the brim. He felt his ears lower and despite himself, he followed her gaze in search of that distant something on the horizon. As if catching his ponderous expression, the Captain turned mirthful. "You know, I miss his wild stories. He never was one to run out of words, not easily. But the most important things he told me, weren't spoken." She extended her arm, holding out her keepsake for his perusal. "Here."

He regarded her dubiously, searching for intent. She had been cradling that thing like a newborn since he'd met her and now she just offered it to him for a peek? It couldn't be that easy, for sure. His lips moved in an effort to pass up the offer but as his gaze fell on her outstretched palm, the object within held his attention. His ears perked up slightly at the sight and Serafen cursed inwardly that they so blatantly betrayed his curiosity. Still hesitant, he reached out and took it.

It was a bracelet, made of adra beads carved in the likeness of small woodland animals and held together with leather and twine, weaved in a knotwork dance of survival. It was notched in places and worn, tarnished with a yellowish patina that had come from use; the grooves that held the inlaid copper of its design, were filled with grime.  
Serafen passed his thumb over the surface, letting it catch on the intricate lines, as he cast on it an appraising eye. Going by the detail of the pattern and careful craftsmanship, it was evident that this was a labour of love. The kind of thing that, any other day, he would have sought to pocket and hide among all the other possessions he had accumulated over his years of pirating. Then pretend he'd seen neither needle nor hay when somebody came asking.  
But this was no mere trinket, it belonged to the Watcher and the thought of her, aching after it, didn't sit well with him. After everything had been lost, maybe it was the only reminder of better times. What if there was more to it? The soulstuff inside glowed faintly, even under sunlight and holding it in his palm like so, Serafen could feel it tremble like a thing alive. Such was the trick on his senses, that if he opened his mind to it, he could swear he would hear its song.  
  
"Love is a sanctuary only for the brave." The Captain's voice startled him, but for a moment.  
"Takes a **fool** to think **folly** and call it _bravery._" He mocked, gritting but his eyes held a clear warning. A warning to stay back.

She chuckled at that and gave a short bow with her head.  
"Then that's what I am; And **a fool **I remain, unrepentantly." A strange flame danced in her pupils but then she smirked, casting him an exaggerated wink; "Perhaps now is a good time to start thinking about jumping ship."

Of course, she couldn't understand. Serafen looked down at the bracelet in his hands, clutching it harder, then letting go. Sure, he could tell her the usual. That his heart was buckshot to shit and so hole-ridden, it couldn't hold much of anything. Not for long anyway.  
But the truth was it, he had _survived_ the maiming. He had patched himself up, just enough to keep going and if he did go, it was because he held together in so many stitches. His heart had turned into a burden. It would twist in its socket, blackened and restless. Even half dead as it was, the damn thing just wouldn't stop _feeling_, with what fierceness it had left.  
He couldn't tell her, it wasn't a flutter that frightened him. He had been burned to cinders and yet his heart still longed for the blaze. The flame had tempered him, like the whip, he learnt to fear it. For he had paid its price in more than was due. And to forego what lick of sense he had gleaned from that, it would be worse than peril. It would be his undoing.

"Nay," he said at length, "With _that_ kinda thinkin', you be needing somebody like me around, keeping you in the straight and narrow."  
The Captain laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder, nodding an agreement. The smile that followed, lingered on her face as she carried a wistful tune. Serafen stood beside, just to hear her sing.


End file.
